Busboy

Andy -- I may be in Paris the 18th or 19th would be delighted to aid you in your search for affordable venues. In the mean time, I'll definitely have a night in Paris the following week, so real-time reports of your discoveries would be mch appreciated. Charles

Busboy, what didn't you like about the metal peel? I just found that my dough stuck to it, making it difficult to slide it into the oven. The fault may lie with my dough but, nevertheless, the wooden peel worked much better.

We bought a metal peel and used and then bought a wooden peel two weeks later. We've never gone back.

Just when I get to thinking maybe I'll drop by and check her latest effort, she goes and puts me of her feed again. I at at one incarnation of her restaurant. The food very good, but simply not good enough to give my money to someone who brings this attitude into the kitchen: "I don't cook to make people happy. I cook because I'm an artist. And food is my medium. I have no need to nurture the world. 'You're in the service industry.' I didn't get into it to serve people. I got into it because it was the least objectionable commercial enterprise I could think of." Washington City Paper, 4/5/04

I think it's closer to 26th -- the one near the 7-11?

If you're near Best Cellars, walk the extra two blocks to the corner of Connecticut and Q and duck into the utterly unassuming liquor store on the corner, next to Kramer books. They have an excellent selection, most of the stuff is under -- well under -- $25, and the guy with the ponytail who runs the wine section really knows and cares about his stuff. IMHO, a much better place to get wine than BC and, since I work in the neighborhood, I've been to both stores many times. I also like The Wine Specialists at New Hampshire and M, which has a good, though more pricy selection. My office wine buddy and I both studiously avoid Tony at Cleveland Park Liquors. He lives in the CP and I hit that strip 3 or 4 times a week, as I live just across the Park in Mt Pleasant, so we've put some quality time in there, too. Inevitably, it seems, he's either trying to dump some odious "bargain" on you or trying to upsell you to something out of your price range. I know, there's a fine line between nice guy (with a different palate than mine) and used car salesman, but I have almost never liked a wine he has recommended. Calvert Woodley is great if you watch for sales, but some of their salespeople are pretty damn snooty.

I was going to suggest the same, but I got the sense from Don's original post that he was drinking wine by the glass. Once, in some mid-level restaurant in Modesto, California, a friend and I were served a lukewarm bottle of something red (Gallo would have been appropriate, but I think it was something a little further up the food chain). I asked the waiter to bring a bucket of ice to the table and my companion was so unnerved at being seen icing down red wine in public ("you just don't do that") that he couldn't eat or stop twitching until I had the bottle pulled out after 10 minutes or so. The tyranny of the "correct." I've asked to have white wines chilled, too, and won some frowny looks from waiters and sommeliers. But I've found that I prefer something a little cooler than cellar temperature and that, worse, cellar temperature can become room temperature pretty quick. A couple of minutes on ice does the trick nicely, without turning the wine into a chardonnay slurpee.

That's not dining...that's performance art.

Any tips on this? I have a million recipes for whole fish I'm dying to try, but am terrified of the subsequent carving and serving. If you're not using a very small fish, or a species with a million little bones, this really isn't as daunting as it seems. Fish, like the ones mentioned here - snapper, sea bass, and certainly tilapia - are really easy to deal with. (I eat them out all the time, usually in a Chinatown, it's cooking them that I'm trying to get into.) Basically, there's a spine, and if you have the fish lying flat on a plate, the spine runs parallel to the plate. So you start by scraping away gently the skin on the top. Then, using a flat utensil (like a cake server, fish server, etc.), you scoop the meat off that's resting on the spine. If you want to start from the center (middle line) of the fish, you can scoop down to the bone, then turn the server and scoop out to the edge. You'll get two fillets, or lots of flaky pieces, it doesn't really matter. Then, you just reach down by the tail end and pick up the spine and lift it out. What's revealed is another half of fish. Some species have other bones, and you have to watch for these when you eat them. But after you do this once, you'll get the hang of it. The other day I saw some very beautiful 1.5 lb. Tilapia in my fish counter at the supermarket, and my local Chinese restaurant agreed to steam them for me with ginger and scallions and soy sauce, just like they do in Chinatown. It was outstanding. This is good fish for easy de-boning and eating. But if anybody has comments on what fish they're finding in the markets whole and how they cook them, please post! The theory is not uncomplicated, but the execution is terrifically delicate. Markk's description rings true - it will all make sense once you get the knife in -- but to pull off the fileting process with aplomb takes a lot of practice. If you're as ham-handed as I am, you'll probably never get a "Food and Wine"-worthy presentation. But with a little patience you can probably get your guests to focus on your wonderful recipe rather than your so-so serving. Remember, it's never even occurred to them to try something like serving a whole fish. Your chutzpah will blind them to a multitude of minor sins.

Wait -- are they whole? Or are they boned and butterflied? What we have here is a failure to communicate. Not to bust your chops...

I love spending a couple of hours at Eastern Market, and then popping into Montmartre for what I think is the best weekend lunch available in town.

My wife and I are just getting into this as well, having discovered an intermittently excellent source of whole fish about two blocks from the house. So far, we mainly cook rockfish and yellowtail snappers, both of which yield a firm and tasty flesh. Our favorite technique, is to make crispy fried whole fish, which is much easier than it sounds. Score the fish twice on each side, sprinkle with salt and let sit about ten minutes, meanwhile heating oil in a wok or a large skillet. Wipe the excess moisture the salt draws out off, and then dust it with your potato starch or tapioca powder. Holding the fish by the tail, slide it down the side of the wok (minimizes splashing) and fry maybe 6-8 minutes on one side and 4 on the other. It comes out crispy, not greasy, and we serve it with a spicy Asian sauce (can hunt down the recipe if you're interested), rice, mango w/ lime juice and black beans. Very tasty. We've also just scored the fish, dusted it with jerk flavor and baked it -- on a rackin a pan -- to very good result. The hardest part is serving/eating the thing - trying to get the cooked flesh off the bone without turning dinner into fish rillets. It's worth the practice -- this is the first time I've ever looked forward to Lent. Edited to add: We get ours in a larger than usual Latino market. The fish are apparantly delivered only a couple of times a week, but if you show up the day they arrive, they are as fresh as any in town -- I'm guessing the local immigrants are more comfortable with whole fish than the yuppies who shop at Whole Foods, and that they prefer the lower prices. I hear NYC's Chinatown is the same way, so a visit to a nearby ethnic enclave may pay off. And note, it's generally considered polite to tip the guy who guts and scales it for you a buck or two.

I spent a little time in Cancun - -damn party kids were calling me "sir"; I have never felt so old. I had one good meal, at a place called La Destiliria. OK, it's a tourist trap like every single other restautrant on the island and, perhaps more damning, offers 150 different tequillas. On the other hand, the food was very good. The lime soup was spectacular. All those tquilas are served neat, with a spicy tomato-juice back, and taste pretty good. And there were no rowdies. I would go back.

We rolled into Mt. Saint Michel about 4 PM and joined the thinning crowds to watch the sunset. After, we dined in our hotel, the Auberge St. Pierre, where my father was served an "omlette" that resembeled nothing so much as a bowl of whipped eggwhites that had been browned under the salamander for a moment or two. Despite fear of looking like an ignorant American tourist, we (that is, I, by virtue of my limited Frech) sent it back twice, until the inside hade been cooked beyond the "stiff peaks" range. After dinner, my parents went to sleep and my wife and I carried a bottle of wine through the deserted streets, taking a pivate tour of the island, drinking wine and inhaling the salt breeze among the turrets and buttresses and stars. The wind came up, but the night stayed clear and brisk, and we could see boats plying surrounding waters and the lights of the hotels and auberges ashore. In the morning, I rose with the sun (and the delivery carts) to shoot the sunrise with mom and dad, and wander through the salt flats to see if there really was quicksand there. The pictures were pedestrian, but dawn on the Island was as sublime as night had been, and in the rock outcroppings and the outbuildings were ready to be climbed on, with the excuse that I was "going for the shot." After breakfast, we rented headphones for a leisurely tour of the church -- no lines, no crowd, just history -- and then packed up. We were heading back to Caen (to la Bourride, in fact) by the time the first wave of tour busses came through, dodging lambs and wondering what the men who appeared to be knocking the dew off the salt grass were doing. A great place. Don't eat the omlettes.

I think a nice dinner with good friends is a fine time to boldly go where no Busboy has gone before. Most recipes rely on familiar techniques and you generally have a pretty good idea what the stuff is going to taste like. Nine times out of ten, even if you're dead set on cooking, say, a croquembouche for dessert, you're probably also in the mood for something familiar for the entree or the appetizer anyway. Why take wing, Icarus-like? You can always double up on the cheese course if the lobster souffle crashes and burns.

Too bad, not that I don't love Jaleo, but it's always fun to find a new spot.

Skin on. The best -- I have yet to master this, but actual pros have served it to me -- is when you can squeegee the skin dry, salt and sautee at a high enough temperature that it crisps up, providing a great contrasting crunch to the softer flesh. It adds good flavor, as well. I've also eaten in places where they skin the fish and then fry the skin separately, serving it on the side, like some kind of briny crouton.

Yuck! But I admire your sense of adventure. I made some lemon grass/mango ice cream the other week, and paired it with blood orange sorbet. Pretty swell.

Thanks, all. Looks like Zola's with a potential move to La Tasca.

I'm sure this has nothing to do with the Bush Administration's "foreign policy by snit." I'm sure.

Any suggestions for drinks in the area roughly defined by 14th street, Mass Ave and the Hill? I don't get out like I used to, but have tried Matchbox and Ella's without becoming addicted, and a friend had already been to Zataneya. I'd like to get somewhere besides the old standbys (Jaleo, Atlantico) and am not sure If I've pverlooked anything in the neighborhood. Good food -- at least on a small plate level -- is important. Thanks. PS, any "must goes" out of downtown will be considered, as well.

The single greatest response to food bores, and a spectularly funny read, was penned by Russell Baker in response to Craig Claiborn's bilking American Express out of a 4-grand dinner in Paris (not that there's anything wrong with that). Claiborn bought "dinner for two at any restaurant," donated by American Express, and caught a flight to Paris for a 5-hour, 31 course dinner. With all respect to Mr. Claiborn, the resulting article -- which I may have read in the old NYT Cookbook, I can't find it on line -- was, like the meal, a little pretentious and well over the top. Baker's response included lines like: "To create the balance of tastes so cherished by the epicurean palate, I followed with a pâté de fruites de nuts of Georgia, prepared according to my own recipe. A half-inch layer of creamy-style peanut butter is troweled onto a graham cracker, then half a banana is crudely diced and pressed firmly into the peanut butter and cemented in place as it were by a second graham cracker. The accompanying drink was cold milk served in a wide-brimmed jelly glass. This is essential to proper consumption of the pâté, since the entire confection must be dipped into the milk to soften it for eating. In making the presentation to the mouth, one must beware lest the milk-soaked portion of the sandwich fall onto the necktie. Thus seasoned gourmandisers follow the old maxim of the Breton chefs and "bring the mouth to the jelly glass." Here's the whole thing.

Straying further off topic... Actually, I think chains -- at the top and bottom of the food chain, as it were -- are part of the problem. At the Applebee's end, a mon and pop owner who accumulate equity, respect and the profits are replaced by non-equity-owning, poorly paid management and minimum wage staff. Psychic losses -- the difference between being an owner and an employee, are high, as well. At the top, virus like replication of high-style social scenes that double as restaurants -- as good as many of them may be -- breed the kind of gustatory thrill-seeking that Margaret referenced in her original post, arguably (probably?) at the expense of restaurants with real heart and good food.

Does that mean that people like me who live in a culinary backwater and rarely eat out are part of the solution? Sadly, no. To be part of the solution, I'm afraid you will have to spend the next six months travelling to Paris bistros, Tuscan trattoria, Carolina rib joints, New England lobster shacks and the Zuni Cafe, spending money on excellent, wholesome food served in homey surroundings and avoiding the latest laquered boits opened by American TV chefs and Frenchmen who accumulate Micheline stars the way Larry King accumulates ex-wives. Otherwise, when these places go out of business, it's your fault. It's a tough job, but we're counting on you. In the mean time, boycott Applebee's.

I think that the question is, are diners -- tourists or locals -- so focused on novelty and "buzz", that the restaurants' focuses shifts away from quality food and service. "PARIS -- One wonders if Paris is not becoming too much like New York, where trendiness and “of the moment” mean more than gastronomic quality or true fidelity to a favorite restaurant. " In other words, in a kind of gastronomic Gresham's Law, are bad (or high gloss, as opposed to high quality) restaurants driving out the good. The subtext being, are we -- you, me, New Yorkers and glitz-guided gastro-tourists -- part of the problem?